She drinks like a fish, dopes with the best of them, sucks cock on camera, flashes her girlie bits to the waiting paparazzi and spends her daddy's money like he just craps it every morning after his coffee and bran muffin. And for this she is famous, a damn celebrity. Famous enough in fact that she gets paid just to show up at events. Not to actually do anything, just to show up because showing up means a pile of cameras and instance news.
I wonder if the event organizers have to pay extra for her to have a cat-fight with Lindsey Lohan or to suck face with some poor, misguided schmuck who is dumb enough to risk herpes for a piece of her action. I can almost hear it now...
Event Planner: "So, Paris will be here at our new Bumpin' Uglies nightclub at 10:30, right?"And this is why I'm torn. I bet 45 days in the L.A. County Jail will add 20% to her asking price. In other words, the attention slut will actually end up getting rewarded for her jail time. I'm not the only one who thinks so. Just check out this AP article quoting a long-time publicist describing how this is actually good for her "career":
Paris' Publicist/Pimp: "Provided your check for 100K clears, Paris will pull up at the front door at precisely 10:33. She's doing a quick cameo at the tatoo/massage parlor up the street as a favor to a friend, but that shouldn't take but a minute."
Event Planner: (in a hopeful tone) "She's bringing Marcos, right?"
Paris' Publicist/Pimp: "No, she's not bringing Marcos. You didn't buy the Super Slut package, so you don't get the whole boy-toy blow-up scene or the gratuitous sex in the men's room.
"No, you bought the basic Visible Vagina package and a side of Durty Dancin'. If you want a top performance, you have to pay top dollar my friend and frankly, that 100K I charged you was a pre-jail discount so be happy with what you get."
Paris Hilton's jail time may up her fame
So, I have to decide if 45 days of orange jumpsuit wearing, low sodium poultry-based dining, no blackberry living makes up for the fact that she's going to be more famous than ever.
It's what I used to call the "sleep with a stranger" dilemma. (I'm happily married so I no longer have this issue.) Imagine you're at the bar and some anonymous hottie is more than willing... should you? You know it will feel awfully good while you're doing it, but you'll likely regret it for a long time to come.
That's just what this feels like except we don't actually have a choice.
No, I'm afraid we're stuck with this mattress-backed debutante for quite some time. That is until someone new comes along and out depraves Paris. Then she'll have to either up her game or settle for sitting in the center square with her tumbler of Cosmos and a stack of pre-written witty retorts. Either way, I think the joy we'll feel watching her do time will be just as fleeting as a one night stand when we realize just how much this is going to help her celebrity.
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